BOW HUNT FOR A TOM TURKEY. Against a backdrop of young jack pine, Bill Marchel carried his bow-killed tom turkey. The bird weighed 19.5 lbs. and sported a 9.5 inch-long beard. Fort Ripley, Minn. - Wednesday, April 16, 2008, 4:15 a.m. I awoke suddenly to the sound of a turkey gobble. Only a turkey hunter would own an alarm clock that provokes him from bed with the gobbling of an amorous tom turkey. And only a turkey hunter would think that was kind of neat. 4:20 a.m. Coffee is brewing. I glance at the outdoor thermometer – it’s 46 degrees. When I walk the dog, I note the sky is mostly cloudy, and a stiff breeze is blowing. That’s not good for hearing turkey gobbles. Snow still remains in the shaded areas, remnants of a storm five days prior. 4:30 a.m. I had arisen plenty early. Legal shooting time is 6:00 a.m., give or take a minute or so. I had packed my gear the night before, and since it’s a short drive to my hunting location, I have time to leisurely consume a bowl of cereal and sip coffee. I also took time to surf the various weather sites on the Web looking for the day’s forecast. No problems, other than the wind. 5:25 a.m. I arrive at my hunting spot. As I step from my truck, I pause to listen, even though I know it’s too early for turkeys to be gobbling. Before I leave, I double-check my gear. Bow and arrows, release, rangefinder, turkey calls, got’em.
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5:30 a.m. It’s about a 1/3-mile walk in to where I’ll hunt. That’s perfect. Long enough of a walk to get the blood moving, short enough that I don’t work up a sweat. In the oak woods, the snow is about four inches deep – wet, slushy and quiet. I follow a faint set of footprints, mine from two days earlier when I had placed my blind. I had also carried in a folding chair and three turkey decoys. Then, the snow was more than a foot deep. As I near my blind, I break out of the oak forest into a meadow surrounded by jack pines. Many of those pines were snapped off due to the recent heavy snow. Even in the open meadow, patches of the white stuff remain, and much to my delight, in the gray light of pre-dawn, I note turkey tracks here and there. 5:45 a.m. I arrive at my blind, and find it crumpled at the base of a jack pine. Yesterday, the wind had gusted to 40 mile per hour. One of my decoys was missing, too. Ten yards downwind I found the decoy. It only took a minute to reset my blind. I paused and listened. Nothing. I was concerned because I figured it was gobbling time. I placed one hen turkey decoy about 10 yards in front of my blind and settled in. 5:50 a.m. A tom just gobbled. Last spring, I had spent several days photographing turkeys at this location. I knew where the birds liked to roost – a stand
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Photos provided by Bill Marchel